Where dips the rocky highlandOf monitor Wood in the lake,There lies a leafy islandWhere flapping herons wakeThe drowsy water-rats;There we've hid our faery vats,Full of berriesAnd of reddest stolen cherries. Come away. O human child!To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in hand,For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wave of moonlight glossesThe dim grey sands with light,Far off by furthest RossesWe foot it all the night,Weaving olden dances,Mingling hands and mingling glancesTill the moon has taken pip;To and fro we leapAnd chase the frothy bubbles,While the world is beat of troublesAnd is anxious in its sleep. go away. O human child!To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in hand,For the world's morefully of weeping than you can understand. Where the wandering water gushesFrom the hills above Glen-Car,. In pools among the rushesThat scarce could bathe a star,We seek for slumbering troutAnd whispering in their earsGive them unquiet dreams;Leaning softly outFrom ferns that drop their tearsOver the young streams. Come away. O human child!To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in transfer,For to world's morefully of weeping than you can understand. Away with us he's going,The solemn-eyed:He'll hear no more the lowingOf the calves on the warm hillsideOr the kettle on the hobSing peace into his converge,Or see the brown mice bobRound and round the oatmeal-chest. For he comes the human child,To the waters and the wildWith a faery transfer in hand,from a world more full of weeping than you can understand.
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you comprehend for and if you act to conceive of of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to experience if you ordain assay looking like a cozen for like for your dream for the assay of being alive. It doesn't arouse me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to experience if you have touched the centre of your own suffer if you have been opened by life's betrayals or undergo become shrivelled and closed from fear of advance hurt. I want to experience if you can sit with hurt mine or your own without moving to enclose it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy exploit or your own; if you can move with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us tobe careful be realistic remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to experience if you candisappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can feature the accusation of betrayaland not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I be to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I be to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still rest at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon. 'Yes.'It doesn't arouse me to know where you live or how much money you have. I be to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair indispose and bruised to the hit the books and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't arouse me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to experience if you ordain stand in the displace of the blast with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you undergo studied. I want to experience what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to experience if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly desire the affiliate you keep in the empty moments. Oriah Mountain Dreamer.
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http://darrenreiter.blogspot.com/2007/11/william-butler-yeats.html
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